


2:56 AM

by milkdaze (flowerstems)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7055374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerstems/pseuds/milkdaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thinks about the world, the way it’s so vulnerable, like an exposed nerve ending to all the dangers that lurk both within and without. / His thoughts run in slow motion and suddenly everything Steve has ever said, ever done, every expression he has ever made, and all the lilts in the song of his voice are suddenly. So very. Heavy in Tony's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2:56 AM

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dalliancee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalliancee/gifts).



> this was written aroung aou hahahahaa sighs at myself

There are certain things Tony finds himself thinking about more and more in light of recent events.

 

He thinks about the world, the way it’s so vulnerable, like an exposed nerve ending to all the dangers that lurk both within and without. The way it’s just a floating rock of mish-mashed elements, melded and held together by an inner core, NiFe, spinning and spinning—if only it were as strong as that made it sound. The way there are threats on the Earth, himself included, that can render this floating rock full of life and death and hate and love little more than space shrapnel.  The way there are things in what was once thought to be an infinite vacuum, destroyers of worlds, gods, dark personalities, that can strip and scorch it down to a molecular level.

 

Tony thinks about the fear this knowledge causes to shake through him, every time with the same ferocity, the same enervation, like clockwork, down to the marrow in his bones.

 

His thoughts spiral on in the vein of fear and he thinks about his mistakes; God knows he has made so many. So, so many, he doesn’t even know how to really start thinking about them, repenting for them. Instead he just thinks of snippets, the mistakes that stand out to him the most on that particular night (mistakes that follow a pattern, he thinks about the same mistakes every night, with an anomaly peppered here or here and there), He thinks, wow, even Tony Stark can’t fix all that.

 

Tony Stark just cannot… fix all of it.

 

He thinks about his friends. The way they have all died once, twice, almost died finally before their own eyes. He thinks about the ways in which they are all immortal now yet still so very mortal, the way live or die is still an option they will instinctively be able to answer in a heartbeat.

 

Steve once asked if Tony would lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over him, well. Tony is sure that Steve would, but...

 

He thinks about the time that has passed since he has last seen any of them.

 

Should he really call them friends? It doesn’t sound like the right thing to think so late at night, but he doesn't really know what other label fits. Agents? Comrades? Comrades save your life, sure (if they like you well enough), but comrades don’t go out to a weird joint to eat in an awkward, heavily observed silence just because you ask them. Then again, friends tend to be honest with each other, or they should be. They’re supposed to be. Tony really doesn’t feel like getting into the philosophy of friendship, there are many others who willingly dive headfirst into that sea of thought.

 

Damn it, he’s getting so distracted. Just another testament to how messed up his head really is now.

 

He tinkers with always-honest machines to clear his head, tears them apart then put them back together even better than before, and he briefly wishes that he could have the same kind of relationship with them—his friends. It's a fleeting moment, one he doesn't dwell on for his own sake (it’s too fucking cheesy, to be thinking of them as friends). Instead, he lets his mind jump from one thought to another, one idea, one vision, one image to the next.

 

After a few days in his seclusion he picks up a pattern in his thoughts—patterns, yes, those are things he can understand easily. What he doesn't understand is why his thoughts swirl around his fears mistakes regrets friends and ultimately settle on Steve. Maybe he does understand and he just doesn't want to admit it because admitting that is hard.

 

Admitting that would be admitting many different things to himself, and he is not ready to admit a damn thing. Not yet, not yet.

 

Even so, his thoughts settle on Steve, and when they settle on Steve it's like they run in slow motion. His thoughts run in slow motion and suddenly everything Steve has ever said, ever done, every expression he has ever made, and all the lilts in the song of his voice are suddenly. So very. Heavy in Tony's mind.

 

Everything that is Steve is heavy in his mind and it takes almost everything that he is to hold those thoughts up. To hold them and look at them and just admire them in his mind's eye because he cannot do it in reality. Not right now. Steve isn't even here.

 

Where is Steve right now? He finds himself wondering about little things like that and he laughs at himself. He wants to say something witty about it and shrug it off, but he can't think of much to say. He tries a few times and all of them start with, "Look at you, philanthropic playboy extraordinaire, thinking like a highschool girl," and end with something along the line of, "because he's beautiful and that's his own fault." And when he catches the words falling out of his mouth he chokes on the struggle to swallow them back down and drops whatever tool he's holding at the time (the most recent one is a screwdriver that almost stabs his leg on the way down.) Each time he fails and each time he's glad he's alone because not a single soul will ever let him live that down.

 

But he thinks about being caught sometimes, thinks about the best case scenario that he's not likely to experience. It would slip out. There will be the all encompassing shock (maybe). Word will spread around a little, and Steve would feel the same, like in those old movies, the old records Steve still likes to listen to in his free time.

 

Sometimes Tony thinks about really stupid scenarios, absolutely idiotic scenarios that a genius like him shouldn't think about, like holding Steve's hand, and he can't look at any mirror for a while because damn. Damn.

 

Damn because this has been going on for a while, but instead of dealing with it like a healthy human being (avoidance is apparently one of his many flaws) he plans out every teasing comment he will make the next time they all meet up—as friends or as the Avengers.

 

He'll call Bruce a fellow nerd, and he will because Bruce will come back. He'll make some Daddy joke about Clint, he's not sure exactly what as yet but it's going to happen. Maybe he'll laugh at Thor's cape for old time's sake (and point out how much better Pepper still is than Jane). He won't say a thing about Natasha, she'll blow his face off. Nick may escape his taunts what with his being incognito and full of guns, Tony is sure he still has eyes and ears and guns everywhere.

 

And Steve? Steve will never escape; he will have a unique quip for each tone of voice and facial expression Steve can pull. He'll drive every comment, grab at every opening, and he'll show his affection in the most obnoxious way.

 

And one thing Tony doesn't know, yet, is that Steve is going to be incredibly annoyed and amused at the same time. And everyone else will laugh because it will be so damn obvious to them, the only ones who won't realise it will be the two of them—too busy dancing around each other and picking fights. Always with the pointless fights, the ones that only people who click in a certain way can have for fun and forget about seconds later.

 

But for now, Tony will just think, that's what he's good at.


End file.
